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Imagine driving down a dark one lane road, in a world with no headlights. Deep water surrounds both sides. Being guided only by the light of the stars, for there is no moon to see by. You can see the place you want to be glowing across the water, about three or four miles away. Helpless to get there, for the road you are on is forever twisting away when you seem to be heading the right direction, taking you further away than the turn before. Every curve gnawing on your raw despair, creeping forward not knowing which way the road turns until you feel the tire on the edge. You manage to recover like a thousand times before, you make the curve alive. Only to find the road has been washed out before you. Should you try to cross this one like the many before? How deep will this one be? You move forward just to find you are stuck. Abandon your car, leave your sorrow, forget the good that has happened. Pull yourself out of the hole and up on the other side, walk around the next curve and find yourself going the right way. But only for a small stretch, you will get turned around again. What ever you do, don't leave the road, don't try to swim, you will sink before you get there. Trudge on.

Starting at a very young age, I developed a liking for walking into a pool, sitting on the bottom, and just relaxing. It used to scare the shit out of my parents.

My mother hails from Ohio, my Father from Massachusetts.

My grandfather on my mother's side served with the 95th, Iron Men of Metz in WWII. He was an entrepreneur. Any time he sat any of us grand-kids down we knew we were in trouble and to be ready for one hell of an example in the form of a long story of what used to be. I would get into trouble just to spend this time with him.

My Grandfather on my Father's side served in the Navy for eleven years. Explored the south poll, got his name in National Geographic. Also worked seventeen years in Saudi Arabia and Iran for Lockheed Aircraft.

I used to dye my hair all the time, never having just one colour at a time. One time I developed an allergic reaction to the chemicals. I tried to dye my hair one more time after that and ended up in the hospital with sever chemical burns all over my scalp. I lost almost all of my hair and almost lost my ears due to secondary infection. I was told most likely my hair would not all come back. I learned my lesson, I only use vegan dye.

Baseball was the family sport, I played most of my childhood. The last team I was on I was 13 with womens fast pitch for the Devil-Rays along with my sister. Shortly after that the family fell apart and everyone stopped playing.

After I started going to school as a child, I was diagnosed with ADHD-I, I have no idea what makes it any different than ADHD.

At one point, some doctor stated autism, I don't like doctors.

I used to be sensitive about my nose; it earned me the nick name Miss. Piggy in elementary school. Hey, it's my nose, I have one!

When I was eleven the music instructor at my school decided to start an after school strings class, I lied to my Mother and told her I was tutoring some kid at the library after school two days a week, to go to the strings class. She found out the next year when the ensemble had been booked to record at Universal Studios. I had to tell her so I could go.

The summer I turned thirteen I was court ordered to live with my father. I had to fight to stay in the orchestra because he felt it was nothing more than a waste of time.

By the time I was in eleventh grade I had earned a scholarship to Juilliard. My home life was messed up and I decided to drop out of highschool for a year when I turned eighteen to go find a better living situation. I went back to school and finished my senior year in one semester, but I was then made aware that by dropping out I lost my scholarship. It didn't matter that I went back and finished in half the time.

I always struggled with depression, I started smoking weed in elementary school to help cope. I graduated into heavier drugs until I was sixteen. I enjoyed playing close to the edge with death. I was into self mutilation, another form of release.

I met my savior when I was fifteen, She was a Florida transplant from NY. A ballerina of sorts, I instantly hated her. She hated me. I have no idea how the hell we became best friends. She cleaned me up, little by little. I was clean at eighteen years, I re-lapsed once when I was nineteen and died. Obviously I didn't stay dead. i have been clean ever since.

I fell in love when I was seventeen, he stopped my heart the day he took his life. I never thought i could love like that again, but I recently met someone that makes me think it just might be possible. He doesn't know, I should tell him. It's too soon and it'd never work out anyways. Distance.

Suicide fascinates me, I used to dream of going out big, and for a good cause. Not so much anymore.

My first kiss was with a gay man who I grew up with, Spin the bottle, (i know, it doesn't count). Then a different gay man who I also grew up with, to make his boyfriend jealous, (it was his idea). I had my first real kiss just after i turned eighteen, swimming in a pond during a lightning storm.

I am a prude, born and raised! But I and starting to crack out of my shell.

I used to want to be a fighter pilot in the air force, but then I was told I would never get to fly the planes because I have glasses.

The first time I smoked a cigarette, I was nine. when I was fourteen my grandfather caught me smoking in the woods, he said, "I don't care if you smoke, just don't do it out in the woods. There are ash-treys all over the house. I won't tell your mother, but you need to tell her yourself one day." I have been quitting since my eighteenth birthday, it hasn't worked.

I don't like heights, well, I like them, i just don't like the potential landing. I don't like being touched when I am upset. I will hurt you.

The first job I ever had was body transport with the Merritt Island Morgue when I was sixteen, where I experienced being shot at with a gun for the first time.

I am no stranger to guns, my brother made sure of that before his passing.

I have few regrets, not of what I didn't do, but of what i would have done if I had known.

I collect old things, one of my most prided possessions is my 1920's piano that "Followed me home".

I grew up playing the NES. The three and four day marathons to get through Sonic and Super Mario Bros. After I moved to my fathers house I didn't have access to games untill I was fourteen and one of my friends gifted me with a playstation 1 w/ display. I also got Spyro, Tomb Raider, Final Fantasy IX, Legend of the Dragoon, Grand Theft Auto, and Parasite Eve. I never got through the last one. My younger sister now has a Game Cube that I attempt to play with her every once in a while. I had an X-Box live that I never set up and ended up giving it to a junky to sell to buy food for her kids. (I know, that's not where the money went.)

I have an issue with wanting to help people. I don't know when to say no.

I let the good things pass me by, I can't handle having something good when I have so much bad to tend to still.

That is part of me, there are plenty more things I could add, but I choose not to. If for some god awful reason you would like to know more, ask.